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1:27 p.m. - 2011-07-28
The Mop on Top.

I have Justin Bieber hair. I didn't intend this, it just grew out this way. I'm going to keep it until I figure out just what to do with my hair. A tougher choice than you'd think.

I'm tired of spikes and buzz cuts. The former is too stiff and the latter too severe. The Schwarzkopf's 'Got2BGlued' line of hair products will just have to limp along without me for a while as I take a break from keeping my coif all stiff and pointy. The Schwarzkopf stock might take a hit, I was their best customer. Used to buy my spiking gel in 55 gallon drums. (With a handy pump dispenser!)

I'm tired of crazy colors. Pink, magenta, baby blue, stark white, mermaid green. Sure they're fun. But the crazy colors fade fast yet never disappear entirely. After a couple weeks I have brown roots too. It gets messy and takes patience to deal with the aftermath of a wild dye job.

Takes a lot of energy to wear outrageous hair in public too. The trick, of course, is to make like you don't know your hair is crazy. Can't be looking around for people's reactions. Can't jut your chin out and dare people to say something. "Yeah, my hair is purple, got a problem with that?" Conversely being timid and apologetic is wrong too. The only way to get along is to forget that you have clown hair and just bop along like usual. Not really a problem for me, I've been a freak all my life so stares and rude questions are my normal. But having crazy hair adds another layer of rudeness and double-takes. I'm pooped. The physical and emotional wringer I'm caught in right now is exhausting enough, no need to be courting another fricken thing to deal with. My plate is full, thanks.

Yet for all the energy and upkeep involved in wearing my brutal hairdos the day to day styling is dead simple. Except for a couple of aborted attempts at letting it grow out I have not needed a comb in over 7 years. Wash, towel dry, add gel, fluff, go. That's it. 15 seconds tops. I know some people (*coff* Miss Steph *coff*) who spend upwards of 45 minutes styling their hair every day. Wrestling with blow dryers and flat irons and hot rollers and clips and brushes and products…yikes. I've no intention of cultivating a 'do that is in direct opposition to my hair's natural composition. It's thick, coarse, and has a slight curl. So no wispy stick straight Paltrow hair. No Bernadette Peters corkscrew curls either. I don't want to battle with my hair, I just want something that's flattering and fairly easy.

But…not boring and nerdy either.

Hence the problem.

If I'm willing to settle for ho-hum hair, some nerd-a-rific Super Cuts style I'd be in clover. Could throw a twenty at a random mall hairstylist every 6 weeks and be done. I'm not scorning Super Cuts here, it's just that the expedient route isn't me. Having some style is important to my peace of mind. I like to present an outward self that represents my inner self. I also like to feel stylish just for my own sake too. Not fashionable, stylish. I'm no slave to the hot trend of the moment. For example I have a back stock of simple bootcut low-waisted jeans and I will continue to wear them even when jeans go retro 80s and have waists set directly beneath the armpits and the ankles are so pegged you have to worm your feet through the openings with a shoehorn. Low-waisted bootcuts are flattering on me. They're comfortable too.

Comfort is another thing with me. When I was 27 I attended a beautiful wedding. A lovely flowery wedding in a gorgeous church followed by a faboo reception. I'd loved the bride and groom since we were all kids together. It was a Big Deal day for me (and my friends) yet all I could think about was my horribly aching feet. My shoes were a bitch. A fashionable bitch. I spent the latter part of the reception dancing in my stocking feet and couldn't wait for the whole thing to be over so I could go home and cry over how bad my poor blistered feet hurt.

How dumb was that? My beloved friends' big day and I'd ruined it for myself with hurty shoes. Right then and there I vowed to never wear painful shoes again. And I haven't. If I can't walk, run and dance in a pair of shoes then I won't wear them. Lucky for me high heels don't bother my feet or lower back, provided the shoe or boot fits well otherwise I can do my thing in even 5" heels. But my shoes will be comfortable no matter what.

So that's where I'm at. I want a hairdo that's like my footwear. As cool has high-heeled boots, yet easy to wear and requires little to no styling time.

Think I just talked myself back into a spiky buzz cut.


Yours about to be un-Bieber-ed, ~LA

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